Not Lost, Although I Long to Be
by CarefulMimicry
Summary: A new couple, Fenris and Dana, move into the apartment across the hall from Garrett Hawke. Garrett has never been one to judge or poke around in other people's business but something about the pair just seems... off. He decides that befriending Fenris, who spends most days at home alone, is not a bad thing. It doesn't take long to discover exactly how "off" their relationship is


9:27

The small, black alarm clock flashed the numbers as if in warning and Garrett couldn't tear his eyes away. The young man had arrived home from work 3 hours ago and had barely scrabbled up the energy to collapse in his bed, instead of on the sofa. Since his face had hit the feathery mass his eyes, ringed with red and black from weary resignation and exhaustion, had stayed glued on those horrid, menacing numbers. Every so often his body would give a violent, erratic twitch, a horrifying symptom of the sleep deprivation he was currently suffering because of the loud stomping and banging coming from the hall. The wonderful old lady in the apartment across the hall from him was moving out. Her family was either too poor or couldn't be bothered to continue paying for the rent and so she was leaving to live in a home.

Garrett would miss her cookies.

Garrett would not miss the distinctive smell that accompanied old people and constantly populated the hallway, jostling for space against the sweet, lavender Febreeze that everyone on the floor pitched in for each week.

Garrett would kind of miss the dozen cats that occupied the apartment with Mrs. Graslesmith. Well, he'd miss most of them, he'd taken one of the kittens in just two weeks ago when she first announced she was leaving. He probably should have thought ahead about how his Italian Mastiff puppy would react to such an intrusion. Or his landlord, for that matter. But thinking ahead was something that other people did, and so Garrett had cooed and baby talked and finally selected a tiny, sickly kitten to take home with him.

He should probably also come up with names for the pets. Cat and Dog were not going to stick around once Bethy met them and he was not going to allow them to have names like Snuffles or Cupcake or something equally stupid. Or Carver, for that matter. The twit would name them something tough and douchey like Duke or Killer. He loved his siblings, he did, really... sometimes... kind of... in a special way... in a way that might have been hate but felt like love... No, no seriously, they were his besties and he did love them dearly. Especially when they brought him food!

A particularly loud bang snapped him out of his light considerations and brought him back to the reason he was awake at 9:30 in the morning. A low, weak groan floundered from his throat and he turned to burry his face in the old, musty pillow. The then proceeded to repeatedly smack his face into that pillow. It was going to be a slow death, half smothered, half minor, but steady brain damage. Alas, he was of a determined sort and the soft cradle of a pillow would not halt him in his task.

He was just starting to get sufficiently dizzy that he considered if it would be able to throw up to death when the noise from the hall stopped and he heard the mighty, low rumbling of a large truck pulling away, fading off into the distance. Silence followed. Blessed, graceful, beautiful, wonderful sweet, sweet silence. Garrett could practically hear a choir of angels singing above his head and immediately scowled and swatted around, silent time you beasts! Silence! In his mind they grumbled and shuffled begrudgingly away to the clouds. Garrett sighed blissfully and let his eyes slide closed, curling his arms around his pillow and allowing his mind to release itself into the blurry beginnings of a dream.

Buzz, buzzbuzz buuuuuuuuuuzz

"Oh bullshit. This is all fucking bollocks." He snatched his phone angrily from his bedside table and squinted blearily at the screen.

Izzy: hey sleepyhead, how much are you loving this silence? ;)

"Bitch." He muttered and threw the phone across the room, hardly flinching at the loud thud and clatter. There was the desperate scrabble and scrap of claws outside his door as the two animals scurried around in surprise and fear at the abrupt explosion of sound. Within seconds of flopping back on his bed Garrett was finally well and truly asleep.

* * *

The young woman beside him took a deep, loud inhale through her nose and released it in a heavenly, elated sigh, "That. Garrett-" she grabbed his face in one of her thin, nimble hands and shook it excitedly, "that is what a hallway is supposed to smell like!" Garrett grimaced and pushed her hand away, "Come on, now, that's not very nice. Mrs. G was really sweet." His eyes drifted lazily to the door with the crooked 30 sticker pressed haphazardly against the door. It was curling at the edges, as if trying to escape, as if trying to wriggle free of the offense of the hideous green door to which it was attached.

"I don't know what old lady you're talking about but the old bat who lived in that-" here she pointed almost disgustedly at the now vacant apartment, "place smelled anything but sweet." Garrett just held the frown, watching as the girl next to him shifted awkwardly under his scrutiny. "Oh fine she was a lovely old lady and I just miss her and I want to stab her stupid, ungrateful kids until you could use 'em for swiss cheese." It had only been three weeks but already the loss of the kindly elder lady was felt keenly by even the most grotesque and perverse member of the building.

His face screwed up at the gruesome image and he wasn't quite sure how to reply finally settling on a noncommittal, "Well... that was... very descriptive, Isabela." She perked up in an instant and flashed him a wide smile, teeth bright against her dark skin, "I know! I should be like a poet or some shit!"

"Oh yes. You're a regular Emily Dickinson." He rolled his eyes and moved towards his door, watching Isabela move to the flight of stairs that lead to the 7th and final floor.

"To be or not to be, there is no try for the bell tolls for thee!" She cried dramatically as she swung around the banister and charged up the old, creaking stairs.

"THAT WAS LIKE FIVE DIFFERENT QUOTES!" Garrett shouted indignantly after her, "AND ONLY ONE OF THEM WAS EVEN KIND OF A POEM!" He paused then scoffed, "It didn't even make sense." He heard her belting, ruckus laughter ring down the stairs for a few second before a door slammed and the building was quiet once more. He glanced at his watch as he jiggled the handle of his own suite, twisting the key 3/4ths of the way around, twisting the handle just so, then finishing the turn as he gave the old, brass knob a hardy yank. The door wheezed open regretfully, shamefully, almost creaking it's apologies as he slipped in and thrust it closed once more with a heavy sigh. It was almost 5:00, two hours until work.

Garrett spluttered as he almost tripped over the surprisingly heavy, yet tiny puppy that had decided to make a bed out of his sneakers as he stood considering his plan for the evening.

"Christ on a cracker!" He staggered sideways a step or two and caught himself on the wall. The pup whined and Garrett sighed, crouching down to scratch his ears and lift him into his arms. "Ahuuuuuuuu-" with a determined stomp he planted his feet and tried to stand, dog in his arms, "My god you have the density of a dying star." After a few seconds of trying to half claw his way up the wall, he just dropped the dog the foot or so to the ground and panted, slouching back against his front door. The dog woofed happily and leapt on his lap with a plop, smothering his face with wet, drooling kisses and waves of hot, stinking puppy breath.

After a mighty struggle that was sure to be recorded in the ages, Garrett managed to shove the excited puppy off of himself and stand, expression a scowl as he wiped dog slobber from his rather displeased face. "Alright, I'm giving you dinner but then you need to entertain yourselves-" he spoke to both of the small beasts that ran his house, for the kitten had meandered aimlessly into the small entryway to see what all the noise and commotion was about, "I have to go to work."

Garrett did as he promised, pouring each a healthy helping of food before busying himself with a shower, trimming his beard (which Varric was convinced Garrett had some kind of weird kink for, given the amount of care he gave it), dressing and generally tidying his place up. His life was the very definition of a hot mess but that didn't mean his home had to be as well. Not so say that line of thought ever actually lead to his apartment being any degree of presentable, but it did mean that he at least took the energy to carve out a pathway from the door of his bedroom to his bed, instead of just allowing the floor to become the kind of mystical legend that his friends told stories about around a campfire.

When he was satisfied that the dishes left in the sink would not begin to exude the worrying smell they were often known to emit, and he was certain that the two creatures currently residing in his home with him would not slaughter each other during his absence, he gave a stout nod and trotted out to get to The Hangedman in time to start his shift.

* * *

The night rolled by in easy waves of drunken customers. The heavy bass of the club music rumbled deep in Garrett's bones, pounded a new rhythm in his heart and his ears quickly seemed to pull back a little, reeling at the sudden assault of loud, dense music. He mixed drinks, cleaned puke, called security when needed and generally grumbled his way through the long night at the popular club. The place was empty and cleaned by 6:00, as usual, and Garrett offered quiet and weak goodbyes to the DJ and fellow bartenders before trudging into the quickly breaking light of dawn. The walk home was slow and easy and left time for him to reflect on the soft songs of the birds and the gentle sounds of the world waking up around him. It was cool and a fine dew painted the perfectly manicured lawns of the happy suburban town he had to make his way through to get home.

Garrett sighed pleasantly, enjoying the slowly warming sun on his flushed and sweaty skin. Summers were nice. During the winter he could go a week at a time wondering if there still was a sun, if it had indeed risen that morning, if it would ever rise again. It was on the dark, cold winter nights that he pondered the validity of Aztec sacrifices, wondered vaguely if they actually had something going there with that idea. It also left him sorry, lonely and depressed. Bethy had bought him a sun lamp one Christmas, which now sat dusty and unused in the back corner of some small closet. He had tried it but swore up and down that it gave him nightmares. Varric and Bethany assured him that Vitamin D did not cause nightmares, and in fact wasn't only good for him but was necessary for his well being and long term survival. Clearly they were liars and slanderers, that Vitamin D shit didn't do much for vampires, now did it? How as that for helping longevity?

Garrett smashed, face first into a walking box.

He cursed and staggered back a few steps, pressing concerned hands over his face to check for damage or wounds. He then paused and blinked at the sentient and apparently animated cardboard before him. He must be tired, he must be, because last he checked boxes didn't move.

"Are you alright?"

Garrett yelped sharply and jumped back, "Boxes don't talk!" He wasn't sure if he was reassuring himself, trying to scare off this new mutant box creature or simply alert the neighborhood that there was a potentially humanity-threatening situation developing on the sidewalk outside their very homes.

The box shifted to reveal a figure, a human figure, behind it. Garrett's heart skipped a beat and he gaped like a fish for several seconds, mouth simply opening and closing, as if he were instructing the other on how to most ineffectively chew food. But heavens above, he was handsome. Hair so blonde it actually looked white, eyes razor sharp and glinting in the sun, some miraculous shade of emerald. The other man's face was all lean and pointed angles, a strong jaw, high cheek bones, delicately arched eyebrows that seemed to currently be expressing some kind of confusion, concern or frustration, though the most likely scenario was a combination of all three.

"Are you alright?" And oh lord that voice. The baritone rolled down his spine in a delicious wave, pooling as a warm pulse low in his gut, and Garrett felt his knees give a little wobble. He managed to pull himself together, though and nod several large, loopy, stupid shakes.

"Uuh-huh." His head jerked for a second, surprised by the sound that, based on the lack of any other being in sight and the now strange look that the stranger was giving him must have come from his own mouth.

Oh well done, very well done you twat. What, are we in middle school again? I'm sorry I thought we were done going doe eyed and weak kneed over cute boys once we reached puberty. Ya remember? That simply splendid year we spent with itchy hair and awkward boners? But we're still just as dumb as ever, I see. Well done, well-fucking-done. Just going to go dig a hole somewhere and die in it now.

"-then I've got to finish moving."

Garrett blinked several times in rapid succession before clearing his throat, "I'm sorry, I'm Garrett, Garrett Hawke, my friends mostly call me Hawke, you're not my friend but you can call me that, too. I mean, not that you'll never be my friend, I love making friends, I think we'd make great friends-" oh god what am I saying? "-That box looks heavy. Is that box heavy? I bet it's heavy. I'm good at carrying heavy things, let me carry that." He rushed forward in a great gaggle of waving arms and stuttering feet and awkwardly wrenched the box from it's current owners hands.

The box was not heavy.

"It's pillows and blankets." The white haired male said simply, his face as impassive as it had been thus far, though a light twinkle of amusement seemed to spark in his vibrant eyes. Garrett's heart melted into his stomach.

"Oh those eyes..."

The other man, who had turned to retrieve another box from the car turned to look at him, "I-... I'm sorry?"

Garrett jumped and scurried towards the door, "OH boxes! You know, just carrying boxes! Moving is great, lets all move!" When he was through the entrance and up the stairs he slumped against the railing and thumped the back of his head against the wall behind him. Oh god, oh god what had just happened? What in the bloody hell had just occurred? He thanked every god, goddess and deity he could name that Isabela or Varric hadn't been around to witness the massacre that was masquerading as a first impression. Right on cue he felt a soft buzzing in his pocket. He shuffled the box around and dug out his phone, sliding the lock screen over to reveal the text he had gotten.

Izzy: oh that was beautiful, that was rich. as in it will make me rich when i put that shit on youtube

Of course her window faced the front of the building. He knew that, he fucking knew that. He was the king of speaking too soon. At that moment his new neighbor approached the stairs, one eyebrow quirked high, almost disappearing under his shaggy bangs, "If the blankets are too heavy you can leave them, my mother is coming soon to help unpack, I'm sure she'll manage." The delivery was dry and in the dark of the dank stairwell it was difficult to see if any of that earlier amusement was flickering in his eyes so Garrett just huffed, half in indignation and half in self defeat before trudging up the rest of the six flights to their floor.

He dropped the box rather unceremoniously on the floor just inside the door to apartment number 30, turning to help the other man put his burden down before running a shaky and nervous hand through is messy, dark hair. "Right, uh, so lets try this again, yeah?" The other just quirked his eyebrow again and waited.

"Right, I'm Garrett Hawke, you can call me either of those things, most do." He offered a hand.

"Fenris." The other offered simply, reaching out his own hand, his nimble fingers curling carefully around Garrett's in a modest shake.

"I'm you neighbor, I'm in room 29, right there." He pointed across the hall, then awkwardly shifted so the was standing in the doorway.

"Duly noted." Fenris gave a curt nod and just the very barest ghost of what might have been a smile touched the very edge of one lip. A thrill ran through Garrett and a dopey smile of his own grew sloppily across his own mouth.

"Well, yeah so... Uh... Yes-" he shook his head to clear it, "I work the night shift over at The Hangedman- well the only shift I guess right? Hah, wouldn't be much of a night club if it was open- shut up, Hawke, shut the fuck up- I need to sleep, these are my natural sleeping hours. But it was uh, it was great to meet you? And if you ever need anything I'm right there-" he pointed again, as if the first time wasn't obvious enough, "Just knock, ya know, like ya do..."

Now there was a lopsided, bemused smirk crinkling the corners of Fenris' eyes and Garrett's heart fluttered hard in his chest, his stomach flipping joyously.

"I assumed as much."

He blinked, "Oh, you've been? Pretty cool place, right? You must not go often, I haven't seen you there?"

Fenris cleared his throat awkwardly, "Not exactly. You just..." He waved his hand vaguely in the air in Garrett's direction. "Alcohol." He finished, as if that explained it all.

Garrett frowned and cocked his head to the side before the realization dawned on him, "Oh god I smell." He was horrified, rooted to the spot in pure embarrassment, "Oh of course I smell, I'm so sorry. I'm not a drunk, just a bartender, I swear, oh fuck you must think- I'm so sorry. I'm just going to shower and then curl up in my black abyss of a room and die. Please enjoy your new apartment, as you'll never see me again because I will be dead." He turned quickly on his heel and almost ran across the narrow hall to his door. He was in such a fluster that he dropped his keys, then fumbled with the handle, forgetting the pattern he needed to make it open. With a frustrated noise he just tugged at the handle until the whole thing popped off in his hand.

He just stared. Why? Why was this happening to him? Oh for fuck's sake why? He dropped the brass knob in his pocket and jammed his fingers into the now open hole in his door, fiddling around until the mechanism clicked and he was able to shove it open, the door sighed resentfully but swung inward, none-the-less.

"Garrett?"

Just as he was about to slam the door behind him, he turned to meet the steady gaze of his new neighbor who had apparently watched the entire ordeal, because his morning just couldn't get any worse, right?

"Thank you. For helping." His words were slow, awkward, as if out of practice, as if he wasn't sure exactly what they meant or how one used them. Garrett just gave another crooked smile and shrugged, "S'what neighbors are for, right?" Fenris seemed to ponder this before nodding slowly, eyes cast down as he considered the sentiment.

There was an abrupt and sudden shout from within Fenris' apartment. "Hey, babe, where's that box with all of my computer shit?!" Garrett blinked in surprise then frowned in confusion. Fenris' body seemed to stiffen just slightly as his head whipped around, "I left it in the bedroom?" He called, half an answer, half a question. Another man strode from one of the rooms within the suite and paused as his eyes locked onto Garrett. His steps slowed, became more deliberate, more purposeful as he approached Fenris, carefully slinging one arm around the man's waist, tugging him close to his body, "Who's this, babe?"

There was... something in his tone that made Garrett's skin crawl, that made his ears itch and the hair at the base of his neck tingle and stand on end. "Garrett Hawke, I'm your across-the-hall neighbor!" His voice was chipper and cheerful, though had an edge to it, seemed to strain and tug as it slipped from his lips. The other seemed to size him up before smirking and stepping forward a half pace, his arm still tightly wound around Fenris.

"Danarius, though every one calls me Dana." The smile that crossed his lips was so warm and charming that Garrett began to question any of his previous misgivings. He was just jealous, just upset that the unbelievably sexy man he'd just met was already taken. Disappointment coursed through is veins but he managed to eek out a small smile, "Great to meet you, Dana. But I've gotta get to bed, night worker, you know the deal." The tall man chuckled and nodded knowingly before drawing back into his shared home, "Have a good one, man." And with that he closed the door, blocking the pair from view but not before Fenris met Garrett's gaze with... something. Some kind of expression Garrett wasn't even sure he had the vocabulary to describe or the intelligence to understand.

With a heavy shrug and defeated sigh he closed his own door, leaving the other knob where it lay in the entryway and plodded to his bed to collapse. What a fool he was. Acting like an idiot only for it all to be stuffed back in his face. Of course he was taken. That he would have a boyfriend surprised Garrett, but why wouldn't he be taken? He was handsome and sexy and good lord the things Garrett wanted to do to him. Or, more correctly, the things he wanted Fenris to do to him. He curled on his side and pull the covers up to his chin and a pillow over his head. If the lord killed him right now he would not be upset, he decided.

Buzz Buzzbuzz Buuuuuuuuuuuuuzz

Garrett unlocked the phone.

Izzy: omg this is the best thing thats ever happened to me. your life is a god damned shit show and i get front row tickets. i couldn't pay you to be more tragic than you already are. my world would be a grey misery without you.

This time he threw his phone against the far wall hard enough that it's screen splintered and spiderweb cracks shot across it's surface. Wonderful.

This day couldn't end soon enough.

((A/N: I'm not going to be updating this story on , I just wanted to put this here in case anyone on here was interested. It's tedious to keep up two sites, and I much prefer Archive of our Own, so if you'd like to keep reading, please read there.))


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